


one hour early

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Morning Routines, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 20:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: For the first month, Noctis uses the extra time Lunafreya needs to get ready to sleep in. At the start of the second, he wakes up early.





	

For the first month, Noctis uses the extra time Lunafreya needs to get ready to sleep in.

They figure it out quickly - that, in the morning, she needs more time than he does. Not that it's difficult to take longer than him. Ignis is the only reason he manages to wear different clothes than the ones he sleeps in, and he doesn't do anything else to prepare besides run a hand over his face and fingers through his hair. There is much to do as king, much more than as prince, and however much training he has for it doesn't mean he can get to bed any earlier than his father had. The extra half hour, hour he can snag as Lunafreya sits silent at the vanity is something he treasures. 

At the start of the second month, he wakes up early.

It's not by choice, and there's no real reason. He finds himself sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, a full hour before Lunafreya comes by to shake his arm. She's watching - eyes wide with a surprise, amusement. She waves him down, eyeliner in hand, wishing him to go back to sleep. But it's too late. He can feel his brain shifting as he yawns, feel the problems of the day begin to crowd, and he knows there's no return to sleep. He shakes his head, waves, in turn, to let Lunafreya know it's not going to happen. 

She gives him a small smile, turns her attention back to the mirror. Noctis sits, bleary eyed, and watches. 

It's not something he's paid much attention to before. At times (or, if he's honest, the whole time), he has no idea what she's doing. There are powders and liquids that go on fingers and brushes, and at first each looks like blobs on her face, but, when mixed and spread and set, it changes her. Not in a bad way - she changes from 'exhausted woman passing out beside him at one in the morning' to 'queen ready to take on the world' before his eyes. Her cheeks flush with colour, her face smoothing out, her eyes and lips full of subtle shades that he's always noticed, but never understood how they appeared. 

It's when she turns to look at him, to give him a smile and beckon him over, he realizes he's been staring. Noctis blinks, eyes dry, and shuffles his way out of the bed. He stifles another yawn into his shoulder as he crouches beside the vanity, the seat too small for two.

"Would you like to help me with my hair, Noctis?" she asks. Her head tilts to the side, a little, the way it does when she's expecting an answer. Noctis rubs at the back of his neck and shifts the collar of his shirt. He can't quite meet her eyes.

"Well, I guess, maybe." The words tumble out, and he sounds groggy. Dazed. Maybe a bit embarrassed, but he tries not to think on that one. He clears his throat, not quite loud enough to cover her laugh, and shuffles, barefoot on the cold floor. "But I don't know how to braid hair." 

"I can teach you."

She tries, at least. He fumbles, standing behind her, chunks of hair awkward in hands used to holding weapons. He tugs too hard, and her voice wafts up, telling him gently, gently, even as she winces. He gives up twice, and each time she coaxes him to return, lips pursed and eyes alight, until he shuffles over with a grunt and a muttered complaint. He tries again - and this time, when the loose braid falls apart even as he holds it, she tells him that perhaps that might have been a little _too_ gentle. 

When it's done, it's nothing like her usual style. Crooked, uneven, too loose in some parts, too tight in others. Noctis scowls, but Lunafreya doesn't match the expression. She rises, carrying the braid on her head like a crown, her shoulders square, her eyes blazing with pride as she ties up the remainder. The knock at the door that signals Ignis' arrival with today's outfit sounds just as her hands begin to drop.

"Thank you, Noctis," she says, and pauses, one hand reaching out to cup his cheek, for not long enough. Her fingers trail away as she looks to the door. "If you'd like, you can help me again tomorrow."

Her smile says she would like that, and the words come from his mouth before he can stop them. "Yeah, sure. It's fun. Your hair is..." Soft, is the word, but he can't quite bring himself to say it. He shuffles, rubs one foot against the back of his leg. "We should get the door. You know how Ignis gets."

"I do indeed." But Lunafreya doesn't move towards the door. She takes another step forwards, hands gentle on his shoulders, and presses a small kiss onto his lips. A moment passes there, and another as she steps back to examine his face, to tug his collar back up, to pat his cheek. She drifts towards the door, and Noctis' eyes follow, lips tingling, cheeks burning, as dazed and stunned as he felt upon waking. 

He wonders if she'll teach him how to do her makeup, too.

**Author's Note:**

> how in love noctis is with lunafreya made this game 400% better


End file.
